A New Rule
by ElijahFrodo
Summary: Rohan's king has been overthrown. It's people being slaughtered as the new king takes the throne. All of Middle-earth is feeling the wrath.


"NO!" He screamed out while amist the smokey battlegrounds overcrowded with the smell of ash and dust. Dead bodies lie among the skilled ruins. Smoke rising from the deep gashes and holes burned striaght through the flesh. Crystal blue eyes widened with fear and confusement. Beads of sweat pouring down his forehead, making wet the facade of what used to be clean, soft, incandescent skin. He fell to his knees, bloody and dirty and cried out, whilest grabbing the cloak of a dead body that lie before him. The skies roaring with drum like thunder, dark clouds overhead waiting for the chance to pour rain down and wash away the existance that once was. Tears streamed down his face as he brought his hands up to cover it, weeping. Curling himself up into a ball on the, unstilled dirt, reemed with the smell of the dead, the blood of them on his clothes, on his face, on his hands. With a crack of lightning ,a flash formed before his eyes and in an instant he sprung up in his bed, back in the Shire. All the different, except for the beads of sweat that lingered on still, soaking his clothes. He panted in his bed for a whiles time after that. Face still stricken with confusement as to what the dream was about. Why he had had it. Maybe it was a sign? A preminision. Maybe it was just a dream and he should forget it ever happened, but still he had never had such a dream before. Not while he slept cozily under his sheets in Bag-End. He rose from his bed and got changed into his day clothes slowly. Letting what lingering memories he had of the night before fade away into realization that...........it was just a dream. Only a dream. So, why couldn't he let it go?  
  
[-]In Rohan[-] A distraught, Eowyn, glances out at the vast fields surrounding the villages of Rohan now covered with dilapidated homes. In a blink of the eye, firey arrows shot at the roofs of these small wooden dwellings and burned them to the ground. Tears welled up to the brinks of her eyelids as she saw the land she grew up in, sunken into the pit of despair. She ran from her room. Long white sleeves of her gown flowing behind her as the train trailed behind, sliding across the floor. A river of long golden blonde hair bouncing as she hastily made her way towards the throne. "Uncle?!.......Uncle!!" she screamed out at last, her high pitched cries turning into a short gasp at the sight of her uncle on the floor by the throne. She ran over in an instant and kneeled beside him. Jaw dropped slightly as her breaths came in pants. She swallowed and took his hand, feeling his icy cool grasp as she held back tears. "......Uncle..........".She put a hand to his cheek, the skin of it having the same feel as the skin of his hand, cold. "Uncle....please.."Slowly he opened his eyes, they were bloodshot and old. The knowledge and wisdom they once possessed, gone. He tried to speak but no words came out. Only the slight quiver of his bottom lip. His face looked old and worn out. Not lively and young like it once had looked. When he first took up the throne. Brows creasing in sadness, he knew his time was up. He knew his rule at the throne and the sight of the land he had ruled, Rohan, would no longer be for him. Even so, he worried more for Eowyn and what the people of their land would do now that they had no king. He eased his head up gently then looked down, the front of his clothes darkened by the blood seeping from the sword wound. He forced himself to speak, knowing it to be his last words. "Eowyn, niece,.....I love you so....." With that he eased his head back onto the ground and his eyes fluttered shut, never to be opened again."Uncle!!! No!" she cried out, uncontrollable tears streaming down her cheeks as she leaned forward and clutched his robe to her, resting her head down on his chest, weeping silently.  
  
Oh Frodo, he said to himself, just let it go. With a sigh , that is what he forced himself to do. He went into Bilbo's study in the hobbit hole and grabbed a book off the shelf. Holding it tightly in his hands as he went over to the door and opened it, the cool breeze that blew in sent a shiver down his spine and for an instant. He saw himself standing at that door in Bag-End. About to leave ,just as he was, but for more serious matters. His brows creased, saddened. He hated the thought of having to leave the Shire behind, his home. But at the same time would have given anything to be able to travel. He stepped out the door and shut it behind him, letting the sunlight warm his skin, and warm away the coolness that had just come upon it. He made his way towards the open fields. Pressing happy thoughts in his mind and a joyus tune flowing from his rounded lips as he whistled. His hands were dug deep in the pockets of his silky brown pants. Eventually he made it to the open field and went in among the tall grass, reaching up to his knees. He walked towards the tree he had always sat before, while reading.  
  
[-]The sound of clapping boots rang out on the floor as he stepped closer towards the throne. Stopping before the sight of Eowyn and Theoden King before him. With a sly grin he clutched the handle of his sword tighter. Just waiting for her to turn and see the one who killed her uncle, in the flesh. The one who would rule all of Middle-earth and had chosen to start with *her* place of dwelling. He dug the tip of the sword a little deeper into the ground, and put out a hand to stop the henchmen that were about to run over and stab her as well. "It's a pity.....isn't it?"[-]  
  
He went over to that tree, and sat down. Back against the bark of it. Opening up his book to the page where he had left off, bookmark sliding out from the crease. His gaze was intense upon the words on the page, knowing not what was going on around him, nor caring. When he was reading he was taken to a different world. One where no one could bother him. Nothing could distract him. No dreams......could haunt him.  
  
[-]She turned suddenly, with a soft gasp of surprise. She rose from her slump on the floor and sniffled back what tears she had left wiping the rest away. It was not her intention to be seen as a weak and desperate woman, especially not in front of a man. She looked him over, gaze confused yet still holding that sense of sadness. "Who are you....?"  
  
"I, am the rightful owner of that throne you stand before." He stepped closer, still grinning and as he came into view, long dark hair cascading down to his wide shoulders were revealed. Cold dark eyes that screamed of anger and pain confined in the absence of what should have been. Eyes, being something that are supposed to be beautiful and soulfull, truly showed what was in his soul. Empty hate. He scratched his bearded chin gently then eased his hand down and lifted up the blade of the sword, it covered in thick red blood. Twisting it and turning it, he gazed at his reflection in the side. "Your Uncle.....put up a very good fight, might I add."  
  
"What?...." disbelief was in her tone of voice. She never thought she'd see the day that her Uncle's rule would end and such an arrogant fool would take his place. She knew, however, that he who had killed the king would be the one to take up the throne. It was known to everyone. She just didnt want him to be the one. She stepped down from the stairs leading up to the throne and went up to him, looking him right in the eyes, sternly. "Uncle would have rather died than to see the day that you became king."  
  
"Both have seemed to happen." He looked back into her eyes. Showing no mercy. Stepped past her and went up the stairs to the throne, kneeling down beside the fallen king and dabbing to fingers in the blood on his clothes. Those, he brought to his mouth and licked, tasting it. "They say the blood of a worthy fallen king......is far more deviant than that of a lesser man. If that is so.....than your Uncle was a king to a army of arrogant fools." he stood straight up and nodded slightly to two of his henchmen who came over and took her by the arms, dragging her off. He waved and went to the throne, slowly sitting down in it and clutching the armrests. He leaned over and ripped the crown off Theoden's head, placing it on his own. "All hail....me."[-]  
  
Several screams arose from the marketplace. A puff of smoke rising up from the ground by the horses feet as they rode through. There were men on horseback carrying logs of wood, lit on fire and throwing them at anything they could get near. The hobbits scattered , panicking, as they saw the Shire burning to ash around them. It was a fleet of brown horses all bearing the mark of the new king. A snake swirled around the blade of a sword, its eyes blood red, fangs showing. With multiple hollers, deep in their throats, the men charged at innocent hobbit men, women, and children. Driving them from their place of rest and peace into the forests and away from their homes. Frodo looked up from sitting under the tree. Hearing the screams and hollers off in the distance. His brows creased in confusement and he rose from his sitting position, closing his book. Just as he stood, one of the riders rode by on the dirt path beside the field, the sight sending a shiver down his spine. For an instant, his nightmare came back to him and the man on the horse seemed to ride by in slow motion. The sound of the hooves and the horse's neigh along with his holler all too clear to him. He snapped out of it and with wide eyes started to run, not knowing where, just anywhere that wasn't in their sight. 


End file.
